


You, then Me

by carefully_careless



Category: Bonnie and Clyde (Broadway), Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: 1930's, And you can bet your hat it's really gay, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mild Language, Ryan is Bonnie, Shane is Clyde, Shane is protective af, bonnie and clyde au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-02-22 09:54:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13164489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carefully_careless/pseuds/carefully_careless
Summary: Ryan and Shane are destined for their own versions of greatness and, when brought together, no one will forget them.AKAThat Bonnie and Clyde AU that nobody asked for but i wrote anyway





	1. This World Will Remember Me

**Author's Note:**

> Bonnie and Clyde had way too short a run on broadway and, damn it, this is my protest

Ryan sighs, tilting his head back as he leans against the counter. He has about 10 minutes left on break and time seems to fly to the 5:00 hour, where he’ll have to get back to work. It’s not that being a waiter is back-breaking work, but it sure as hell isn’t satisfying.  
  
Early on in life, Ryan knew that he was destined for more than living and dying in Rowena. Texas wasn’t a slice of cake and a basket of bread in the twenties, less so as the decade died. When he dreamt at night, he saw bright lights and smoke swirling from cigarettes. He heard laughter and the band playing at a party where the top of the line mingled. He could feel the weight of someone on his arm, feel the swift kiss against his lips. He would be on the silver screen if it killed him.  
  
Surely there was more to him than a waiter from the south, at least. He could be the next Chaplin. Perhaps Max Linder or Rudolph Valentino? One day, he’ll know Clara Bow personally.  
  
Everything he’s done in his life has built up to his dream, like getting the job as a waiter to save up. You surely can’t make it your first few days in Hollywood on even a year’s salary. So, he works. He gets up and deflects his mother’s nagging about ‘that girl’, his wife he never officially divorced, but left all the same, and heads to work. He clocks in just like any other and scrubs burnt cheese off tables, his coffee stained apron hugging his chest. He practices his smile for each costumer, promising himself that in a matter of years, he’ll have more than enough money to buy this place, let alone buy the train ticket to California.  
  
He just has to wait. But, that’s okay. Ryan is a patient man.  
  
Except, in his daydreaming, he ate up the rest of his break. Fantastic. He flexes his hands and shoulders the door to the break room open and walks into the dining room, where a few separate families sit. There are none in his section, per his absence, but that is sure to change. Speak of the devil and he shall arrive. The door chime has the attendant at the front desk turn to greet the couple coming in, grabbing two menus and guiding them to a table, making eye contact with Ryan and nodding.  
  
Ryan plasters on his smile and snatches his notebook and pen out of the basket by the counter, smoothing out his dark hair and brushing crumbs off of his clothes. He swaggers towards the couple as they eye the menu, the man pointing to something on the bottom and the girl nodding. They look about as well-to-do as people go in Rowena.  
  
“Hello,” Ryan grins as he approaches, uncapping his pen. “I’m Ryan. I’ll be your server this fine afternoon. Can I start y’all off with a drink?”  
  
“Water for both of us, please,” the man answers with a kind smile and Ryan nods, scribbling the order into his book.  
  
“Comin’ right up, sir. Are you interested in an appetizer as well?”  
  
……………….  
  
Ryan sighs with relief as he flips the OPEN sign, officially done for the day. The manager said he could go home as soon as the last customer’s space was cleared, something about his unwavering loyalty to the diner, and to take a slice of pie home for him and his momma.  
  
After thanking him graciously, Ryan quickly slips out the back door to where he had his car parked, an old model that acts up frequently. As he slides into the driver’s seat and attempts to crank the engine, he lets out a string of curses, jumping right back out of the car.  
  
“Damn it! Damn it, damn it, damn it!” Resorting to kicking the thing, Ryan lets out a few aggravated grunts.  
  
“Engine trouble?”  
  
Ryan jumps at the voice, whirling around and coming face to face with a man considerably taller than him. Jesus Christ, that’s a tall man. He wears a blue shirt under khaki suspenders and brown trousers. Upon his head sits a flat cap and, despite the surprise that initially registered, Ryan can’t help but marvel at how attractive he is.  
  
Ryan scoffs, landing one last blow to the old car. “Everything, pretty much.”  
  
“Might as well be mine,” the man says with a smirk before shoving his hands in his pockets. “How ‘bout I take a look at it? See if I can fix it up and maybe catch a ride to west Dallas?”  
  
Blinking in shock, Ryan feels his jaw drop before quickly nodding, stepping aside to let the man look at his car. “Thank you,” he says incredulously, biting down on his lip. The man crouches, eyeing the car’s insides and the crack in the back window.  
  
“So,” Ryan starts, crossing his arms as he tries to fill the silence. “Devil’s Back Porch, huh?”  
  
“Not for long,” the man replies, standing and facing Ryan. Well, facing is more like looking down a surprising amount to meet his eyes. “I’ll be leaving soon.”  
  
“Leaving? Huh. I’ve never met someone moving away from west Dallas.”  
  
The man grins. “Now you have,” he says as he sticks out his hand. “Shane Madej.”  
  
Hoping his palm isn’t too sweaty, Ryan shakes Shane’s hand. “Ryan Bergara.” Shane. Fitting. “So, where are you headed?”  
  
“Anywhere I want,” Shane replies with no small amount of pride, beginning to examine the bottom part of the car. “Just,” he starts with wonder in his tone, “like Billy the Kid.”  
  
Red flag. Red flag. Red flag.  
  
“Um,” Ryan chuckles nervously, “wasn’t—uh—wasn’t he an outlaw?”  
  
Shane slides out from under the car, mouth agape mockingly. “Well, I suppose he was, wasn’t he?”  
  
“And,” Ryan continues, propping his hip on the car with narrowed eyes, “didn’t he die in an ambush?”  
  
“Nah,” Shane calls out from below, an easy sort of defensiveness in his tone. “He died an old man in a young lady’s arms.”  
  
RED FLAG. RED FLAG. RED FLAG.  
  
Ryan wonders if he can just walk home. Yeah, or run. Running home away from this dude.  
  
“No,” he says quietly, “I’m pretty sure it was an ambush.”  
  
“Potato, potahto, babe.”  
  
Clearly a bit flustered at the name, Ryan clears his throat. He hopes that his face isn’t as red as it feels as he watches Shane stand up, dusting off his hands. The man takes a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and strikes a match against the car, lighting the thing and bringing it to his mouth.  
  
“I got plans, see.”  
  
Ryan rolls his eyes. “Everyone’s got plans, sir.”  
  
“No,” Shane says, brushing off Ryan’s words. “Everyone’s got dreams. I,” he says, jabbing a finger at his chest, “have plans.”  
  
Before Ryan can interject, perhaps say that he has plans too, Shane continues speaking.  
  
“The people here live. They die. No matter how long they live, they’re forgotten. It doesn’t even scare ‘em! God, I can’t wait to get away. All that waits for anyone here is sweat and foreclosure. Not for me, though. I ain’t wastin’ my life ‘round here.” Shane hands Ryan his cigarette and Ryan takes it with a nod, taking a drag for himself.  
  
“So?”  
  
“So,” Shane says in a voice that borders sing-song, “I got it all planned. If I can pull three jobs a year? I’ll be rich. Everyone will know my name.”  
  
Pulling his cigarette away from his face, Ryan tilts his head in confusion. “Pull three jobs? What does that mean?”  
  
Shane lifts an eyebrow. “What do you think it means?”  
  
Ryan blinks, examining the phrase. Apparently, though, the question was rhetorical, as Shane brings a hand up. “See, just like Billy the Kid? Everyone will idolize Shane Madej.”  
  
“I—uh—can’t say I did that as a kid…,”  
  
“I can promise you right now,” he says, walking closer to Ryan, something that has Ryan’s heart beating loudly in his ears. Shane casually flicks the top button of Ryan’s shirt as he talks. “This world will remember me.”  
  
Ryan chokes out a few directionless words and Shane smirks. “Don’t you think,” he starts, voice much lower than before, “it’s time you ditched this place?”  
  
“Well, I can’t just-,”  
  
“Oh, I can see you in a car with your own driver,” he says, fingers beginning to run the length of Ryan’s forearm. “You’re heading to your penthouse that’ll overlook the shore.” With his other hand, he holds out a finger, tracing a shoreline into open air as Ryan follows it with his eyes, mystified. “You belong in Hollywood. I can see it in ‘ya.”  
  
“Really?” Ryan smiles, lighting up instantaneously. “I can’t believe that!” In his excitement, he drops the cigarette, stomping it out in the grass and grabbing Shane’s biceps. “See, I always knew that’s where I was supposed to be! You’re very intelligent, sir.”  
  
“Ryan Bergara, we are wastin’ away here,” Shane says, tilting his head forward and slinging an arm around Ryan’s neck, pulling him a bit closer. “We weren’t born to live and die in Texas. This is my plan. I ain’t got time for plan b, either. You and this world? Sure as hell gonna remember me.”  
  
Maybe it’s the weird feeling in his stomach or just how right Shane’s words are that sends Ryan slowly closer, closing the already short distance between them until their lips are connected. It isn’t until this that Ryan begins to worry. What if this man isn’t even—Oh. Okay. The panic subsides as Shane brings his hands to Ryan’s cheeks, cool against his burning skin. Ryan practically melts against the man, arms going up and up to drape around Shane’s shoulders.  
  
It isn't until the police sirens are in earshot that Shane yelps, shoving away from Ryan and ducking behind the car. 


	2. How 'bout a dance?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan's an ACTOR, a POET, and a SINGER, and don't you dare laugh at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, not historically accurate (I tried, but there are so many accounts, you know?)  
> The musical is bomb, so I'm going by that.  
> 

Ryan stumbles back, confused and dazed. He meets Shane’s eyes from where he crouches and Shane presses a finger to his lips.  
  
Though petrified, Ryan obeys, turning to watch as the police cars disappear on the highway. When the sound of sirens is far enough away that it’s safe, Ryan turns back to Shane.  
  
“Were they lookin’ for you?”  
  
“Maybe?” Shane replies as he stands, a sheepish smile on his stupid gorgeous face. “I kinda did just bust outta jail.”  
  
Ryan gasps in shock, finally registering that he might have really been talking to…Kissing a murderer. No, get your head on right, Bergara. It might not be that bad.  
  
“Now,” Shane starts, holding his hands up in innocence, “I don’t wanna cause no trouble. Don’t be worryin’ about me ‘cause I’ve been to jail.” He slowly walks closer and Ryan crosses his arms, holding his head high.  
  
“I know plenty of men who’ve been to jail.”  
  
“How many of them busted out?” Shane asks with a crooked smile.  
  
Just ask, Bergara. “What were you in for?”  
  
Shane looks down with a smile, scratching the back of his neck. “Robbery, auto theft, a few things. I get bored easily.” Ryan huffs out a shaky laugh and might have started to talk before Shane jumps in. “So, what do you say? Give me a lift to west Dallas?”  
  
Ryan shakes his head quickly. “The police are after you!”  
  
“Oh, they ain’t gonna catch me. Look, I’ll be fifty miles out this time tomorrow.” Shane gets a sad look in his eye as he steps closer. “I just wanna see my folks before I go.”  
  
Damn it. Damn Shane and his damn dog eyes. Ryan sighs, dropping his arms and gesturing to the car. “Okay.”  
  
…………..  
  
“I gotta say, Mr. Bergara, you are quite the charmer.”  
  
Ryan laughs, turning his eyes to Shane for a second before looking back at the road. “And how’s that?”  
  
“Well, you’re tellin’ me you wanna be an actor and a poet? Most men ‘round here are fine plantin’ seeds and milkin’ cows.”  
  
Ryan smiles, shaking his head as he makes a left turn. “Can’t say it was ever for me.”  
  
“I resonate,” Shane replies. A short silence overtakes the two as the car bumps along the uneven roads. “Have you heard about the radio you can put in your car?”  
  
Ryan lifts an eyebrow, tilting his head towards Shane’s direction. “It’d sure make drives less boring.”  
  
“I tell ‘ya. You know what? I bet one day you’ll be sitting in a nice new car singing along to something new.”  
  
“Oh, really?” Ryan laughs, knowing the radio must be extremely expensive.  
  
“And maybe,” Shane says as they come to a stop sign, “I’ll be singin’ with you.”  
  
Ryan blinks, turning to Shane with a numb face. Come on, Ryan, you know he’s just trying to get a ride from you. He’s just getting in your head. The best thing for you to do is drive him to west Dallas and forget about him.  
  
But that won’t happen. Forgetting him, at least. It wouldn’t hurt too bad to have good memories, would it?  
  
Ryan puts most of his weight on the breaks as Shane leans forward. “May I kiss you?” Slightly shocked by the respect of the man, Ryan nods and Shane gives him a small smile, capturing his lips once again, fingers, running through Ryan’s hair. Honestly, having met maybe an hour ago, Ryan can’t help feeling for Shane. Maybe it’s one of his flaws, one of the things that’ll kill him in the end, but dying might not be so bad if this is the cause.  
  
Ryan pulls away slowly, not being able to help the dopey smile on his face.  
  
“Why,” Shane whispers, just inches away from Ryan, “has anyone ever told you that you’ve got a marvelous smile?”  
  
“A few,” Ryan replies with a grin and Shane chuckles, drumming his fingers on the dashboard.  
  
“Can I show you something?”  
  
Ryan bites on the inside of his cheek. If there were any test of trust, this is it. Ryan doesn’t think Shane will take him to a dark house and murder him slowly, but he doesn’t know that.  
  
“C’mon, before the sun sets. I promise I ain’t gonna hurt you.” Shane sits up straight, patiently folding his hands in his lap. “How about this. I won’t lay an uninvited finger on you. The minute you say you wanna leave, I’ll jump in this here car, you can take me to Dallas, and never have to see me again.”  
  
“Deal,” Ryan whispers, feeling a bit better about the situation.  
  
Shane beams, turning and opening his car door while Ryan puts the car in park, exiting as well. By the time they’ve switched spots and are back on the road, the sun had already set a few centimeters closer to the horizon.  
  
Shane seems to be taking them the opposite direction of Dallas, driving along the outline of a corn field until he reaches an outlet that looks like a plow would fit. Or a car, it seems.  
  
He turns, maneuvering the car in between tall stalks of corn that might just be as tall as Shane. Ryan voices this. Shane laughs as if it was the funniest joke he’s ever heard.  
  
Within a few minutes of driving, they come to a field that perfectly cradles the setting sun. Shane parks the car, leaping out of his side and beating Ryan to opening his door, bowing comically. It should be noted that even bowing, he’s still taller than Ryan.  
  
“So, what’s this,” Ryan laughs after thanking him, grass crunching under his feet as he walks out away from the car.  
  
“Beautiful,” Shane replies. “I mean, when the sun gets low. I reckon we gotta wait a little. You okay with that?”  
  
“Absolutely,” Ryan answers, eyes wandering along the sky, where gorgeous purples, reds, and pinks fade into a dark blue. “What are you talkin’ about? It’s already amazing.”  
  
“I think so, too,” Shane says quietly. “Ryan, I gotta be honest, I really like you.”  
  
Ryan sighs lightly, turning away from the setting sun to face Shane. “Are you sure that’s not because I’m the first person you’ve seen since prison.”  
  
Shane laughs, shaking his head. “Positive, sir.” Ryan looks down, smiling and nervously clasping his hands together.  
  
“Well, I…,” Ryan starts before looking up and meeting Shane’s eyes. He swallows his words and gestures towards the car. “I have a blanket in the back. We can sit.”  
  
“Of course,” Shane says, deflating a little before turning and opening the car door, reaching back to grab the blanket.  
  
Ryan takes the time by himself to collect his thoughts, perhaps cool his face down. Forgetting just became totally impossible.  
  
“Got it,” Shane announces with a smile, walking back to Ryan with the think flannel article slung over his shoulder. God, it’s a nice scene.  
  
“Um, yeah. Good.” Ah, Ryan, you have such a way with words.  
  
Shane leans over, spreading it over the dying grass that comes with October. He gestures politely for Ryan to sit and Ryan takes a spot on a corner. Shane accompanies him, keeping his promise of not touching Ryan.  
  
They sit cross-legged and Shane gives an exclamation of excitement. “Now!” He points to the horizon and Ryan follows his finger, jaw dropping in wonder.  
  
The sun sits perfectly in between two steep hills, the light bouncing off of the field’s tall grass. It shines through the corn to their left and splinters into the forest on the right.  
  
“Damn,” Ryan whispers, going to cover his mouth in quiet shock.  
  
“Yeah,” Shane agrees in the same tone of voice, though his head isn’t turned towards the sun.  
  
“This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”  
  
“Can’t say the same.”  
  
Ryan blinks, turning to Shane with owlish eyes. Shane gives him a lopsided smile and presses his lips together. He looks almost nervous. Ryan almost wants to point out the Billy the Kid wouldn’t have gotten nervous over a nobody from Rowena.  
  
“Can I?” Shane asks quietly and Ryan nods, granting him permission.  
  
Shane softly cups Ryan’s cleanshaven cheek, leaning in and trailing his opposite cheek with pecks that make Ryan sigh lightly. The small kisses head down to the corner of his mouth and Ryan nearly busts out in a grin, realizing that Shane is basically giving Ryan control of anything and everything. He takes initiative, the final ‘you may’ being him catching Shane’s lips and everything falls into place.  
  
Ryan feels Shane smile against his lips and his hands go up aimlessly, trailing his fingers over the skin of Shane’s neck and they find a home resting on the top button of his shirt.  
  
“You’re really somethin’, Ryan Bergara,” Shane says as he pulls away for breath, voice low in Ryan’s ears. Shane’s hands wander over Ryan’s face, tracing his lips as Ryan sets to work unbuttoning the first three buttons of Shane’s shirt.  
  
Ryan doesn’t know how it happens but he knows it’s his doing. Shane doesn’t seem to be doing anything without a glance up at him, waiting for an explicit ‘yes’, but Shane ends up lying down on his back, Ryan sitting on his stomach. Ryan’s hands, cool in the evening air, run along Shane’s chest as he leans down to kiss him again.  
  
It might have gone on, too, if Shane did catch Ryan’s hands with a smile and say, “So, poetry, huh?”  
  
Ryan laughs, rolling off of him and finds a spot lying down about a foot away from him. “Shut up, Shane.”  
  
“No, I’m interested!” Shane says, leaning up and propping himself up on an arm. “Show me some.”  
  
Ryan rolls his eyes. “You’re insufferable. Fine.” He stands, going to the car and slinging the door open, turning it on to let the headlights shine on where they were sitting and grabbing his pen and notebook from under the seat. “Give me time to write something.”  
  
Shane nods, leaning back to look at the stars, lacing his fingers over his stomach.  
  
“So,” Ryan says as he sits, flipping his book open and beginning to write. “Tell me about your plan.”  
  
“Well,” Shane starts, “after Dallas, I’d hit a few small grocery stores. Can’t do nothin’ without money. Then? I’m off. Cops can’t cross state lines while keeping jurisdiction. I’ll go to Ohio or New York and I’ll be a free man.” Ryan hums in response, letting Shane know he was listening. “And you know what?”  
  
“What?” Ryan replies, not looking up from his writing.  
  
“You’re comin’ with me.”  
  
“What makes you so sure?” Ryan asks with a small laugh.  
  
“The smile,” Shane says warmly.  
  
“Just because I’m smiling doesn’t mean I’m-,”  
  
“I meant mine,” Shane interjects and Ryan looks up in surprise, slowly beginning to mirror the smile on Shane’s face. Ryan laughs, capping his pen.  
  
“You should get home. Didn’t you wanna see your folks?”  
  
“Aw, that can wait,” Shane says, curling sideways to look at Ryan. “You finished yet?”  
  
Ryan sighs. “Yeah.”  
  
“What kind of poem, then?” Shane says, picking at a loose thread on the blanket.  
  
“Kind that’s gonna be published,” Ryan says, looking down at it with pride, eyes lit up. Shane hums in amusement and Ryan looks up with a brilliant beam. “Yes, sir. In a newspaper. ‘Poetry by Ryan Bergara’ with a picture of me right beside it. Look.” He digs something out of his pocket and hands Shane a small picture of himself. “See, this is what you call a glamour shot.”  
  
“Well,” Shane sighs, taking the photo and holding it up in the light. “Isn’t this the most handsome picture I’ve ever seen.”  
  
“You’re kind,” Ryan says with a blush, snatching the photo from Shane and looking at it himself. “It’s old, though. I need another one. One with a hat.”  
  
Shane laughs, nodding along before propping himself up on an elbow. “Read me your poem,” he insists and Ryan rolls his eyes, opening his book again.  
  
“Alright, alright.” He clears his throat and lifts his head. “Billy rode on a painter horse. Billy the kid, I mean.”  
  
“I love Billy the Kid!” Shane exclaims and Ryan looks up fondly.  
  
“I know.” He looks back down. “And he met Shane Madej riding in a little grey machine.”  
  
Shane gasps, sitting up straight. “You wrote a poem about me? Oh, you are so in love,” he says, dragging out the last word. Ryan laughs and flicks his arm.  
  
“Billy said to-,”  
  
“Man, I am so-,”  
  
“Are you gonna keep interrupting me? Because there’s a type of rhythm and flow to these types of things, you know, and if you keep-,”  
  
Shane holds his hands up, laughing at Ryan playfully. “I understand. My lips are sealed.”  
  
“Thank you,” Ryan huffs, watching as Shane lays backs down and gestures for him to keep reading. “I ride my horse, tried and true. I could shoot, but they got me, and one day? They will get you.”  
  
Ryan hears Shane make a noise of indignation, sitting up again and snatching the book from Ryan. “Now that ain’t a pleasant thing to write.” He stands, frowning down at the words in the book.  
  
“It’s dramatic,” Ryan insists as he stands and tries to grab his book back.  
  
“It’s stupid!”  
  
“Don’t you dare call my poetry stupid!” Ryan yells, jabbing a finger into Shane’s chest.  
  
“Well, when you write about things like-,”  
  
“It’s supposed to be dramatic! I’m gonna be famous for it and you’ll wish-,”  
  
Their voices overlap as they stand their ground, yelling in frustration until they both come to a halt, staring at each other with anger. Shane cocks his head.  
  
“I…Really want you right now.”  
  
“Well,” Ryan huffs, “you should have thought about that before you called my poetry stupid.”  
  
Shane sighs, going to sit on the hull of the car. “I’m sorry.”  
  
“You should be,” Ryan says, holding his head high as he hugs the book to his chest. Shane chuckles and Ryan whirls around, smacking his arm with the notebook. “Don’t laugh at me. Don’t ever laugh at me. I’m gonna be an actor and a poet and a singer and you’ll regret ever calling it stupid.”  
  
“A singer?” Shane says, a growing smirk on his face. “I didn’t know you sing! Show me something.”  
  
Ryan turns, facing where the sun once was. “I’m not in the mood.”  
  
“Aw, come on, babe,” Shane pleads and is answered with silence. “Picture this.” He slides off the car, slipping towards Ryan. “You’re on a stage in a smoky bar in Vegas. You’ve just read your poetry, you’re up at the microphone about to sing, the crowd is going wild.” Ryan turns his head, eyebrows lifted slightly as Shane nears.  
  
“And?” Ryan whispers, letting Shane wrap his arms around him from behind.  
  
“And you hear it,” Shane murmurs in his ear. “Ryan, Ryan, Ryan. They love you. The music starts and-,”  
  
“How ‘bout a dance?” Ryan sings lowly, in a sultry manner. “What do you say? Come over here, let me get to know ya.”  
  
Shane smiles, dragging his arms down Ryan’s and twisting their fingers together.  
  
“I got some moves that I’d love to show ya,” Ryan smiles a bit, tugging Shane’s arms around him.  
  
“That’s nice,” Shane whispers with a smile. Ryan’s voice is smooth as he carries with the song. He had heard it on the radio in his living room a few nights ago and loved it immediately. He wasn’t sure who sang it, but he spent all his free time set in front of the machine, hoping against hope that it would come on. In the few times they played it, he found himself learning the lyrics and melody, humming as he worked all day.  
  
“This is my favorite song,” Shane admits in his ear as he nears the chorus and Ryan whirls around, nudging Shane to the side so that he was directly in the car’s headlights. Getting the hint, Shane whoops, climbing the hood of the car and sitting as the audience.  
  
With the bright lights in Ryan’s face, he loses himself, feeling as though he really is on stage in Vegas. Shane occasionally lets out praises like “Sing it to me!” and “Fantastic!” and Ryan winks at him.  
  
Staring into the lights he finishes the song slowly, lightly, “You’ll lose the blues and you may lose your heart.” His heartbeat slows back down as the intense silence adds to the effect of an amazed crowd. That is, until Shane breaks it.  
  
“And that I did!” Shane calls as he claps, whistling. Ryan grins, coming back down to reality as Shane slips off the car and smiles down at Ryan. “That was the most amazin’ thing I’ve ever heard.” He fits his hands to Ryan’s hips and draws him close for a long kiss.  
  
Quickly, Ryan grabs his face. “How soon did you promise your folks you’d be there? Cause it’s late and I’ve got a couch back at mine.”  
  
Shane pulls him back, smiling against his lips. “Oh, baby.” Ryan’s arms find a home around Shane’s neck.  
  
West Dallas will have to wait a night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Ryan sang is called "How 'Bout a Dance" from (shocker) Bonnie and Clyde. I would have put a link but I didn't want to try figuring it out so...  
> ANYWAY lemme know if you liked it! Comments serve as sustenance  
> Thanks for reading!!


	3. You are Goin' Back to Jail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh this got so much more positive input than I thought it would get so thank you!!  
> Also, I'm not incorporating anyone from...the Buzzfeed scape. Buck and Blanche are Historical (tm)

“Don’t be expectin’ much,” Ryan mutters shoving the door open to shove a dimly lit living room. Though it’s probably the nicest house they’ve both been in, it’s still no Versailles.  
  
“I think it’s lovely,” Shane comments, following Ryan into the room.  
  
“Oh, please,” Ryan scoffs quietly, taking his jacket off and hanging it on the coat rack.  
  
“Absolutely,” Shane says, pulling him in for a quick kiss to prove it.  
  
A voice from the other room interrupts them. “Ryan?” Instantly, Shane and Ryan stand straight, their bottom halves being cut off from view by the couch. Shane takes his hat off.  
  
“Hi, Momma,” Ryan smiles and a woman that looks strikingly like Ryan, just with longer, curlier hair emerges from a side room. She wears a floral shirt, black blouse, and angry face.  
  
“Ryan Bergara, where were you? I know very well the time you get off.” She notices Shane’s presence and clears her throat. “Who’s this?”  
  
“Momma, this is Shane Madej,” Ryan says, laying a hand on Shane’s shoulder. “He’s a friend of mine.”  
  
“Pleased to meet you,” Shane says respectfully and Mrs. Bergara nods.  
  
“And you. Now, Ryan, why is he here?”  
  
Ryan swallows, trying to come up with a story quickly. “He needed a place to stay for the night. He’ll be heading up to Ohio to get a job in printing.” The last part sounded more like a question than anything and Shane helps him out by letting out a quick ‘Mhm’.  
  
“Printin’?” Mrs. Bergara mirrors and Shane nods. “Not many men have jobs nowadays.”  
  
“No ma’am,” Shane agrees and Ryan sighs in relief.  
  
Mrs. Bergara nods. “You should consider yourself very lucky.”  
  
“I sure do,” Shane smiles, lacing his fingers with Ryan’s behind the couch. Ryan hopes that things will wrap up soon when Shane jumps around the couch excitedly, crossing the room. “Who plays the ukulele?” He picks up the old instrument as Mrs. Bergara turns around.  
  
“My husband, God rest his soul.”  
  
Shane nods, copying her sad look and saying, “Amen,” before bringing it up to his chest and strumming out a quick tune. Ryan is honestly shocked, first by the fact that a criminal took up hobbies like that and second at how good he is.  
  
“That’s very nice. Where’d you learn that?” He asks in genuine wonder and Mrs. Bergara hums in agreement.  
  
“Aw, well,” Shane starts, “a guy taught me when we lived in the Viaduct.”  
  
Both Bergaras gasp and Ryan takes a step forward, gently asking what both were thinking. “You lived in one of those camps?”  
  
“Oh,” Shane blinks, rushing to amend himself from saying something about his past excursions. “Foreclosure when I was 15. We, uh, had to leave our farm, so we packed up and moved to Dallas. Lived in a tent under the old cliffs Viaduct for three years.”  
  
“I’m so sorry,” Mrs. Bergara breathes and Shane sets the ukulele back in its place.  
  
“Thank you, ma’am, but it wasn’t that bad.”  
  
Mrs. Bergara nods and gestures to the couch. “Well, you may sleep on the sofa. There’s an extra sheet in the bedroom. I’m sorry, we don’t have an extra blanket or pillow.”  
  
“Oh, that’s fine, ma’am. Thank you.” Shane smiles graciously and Ryan crosses the room to join him.  
  
“You’re welcome. I wish you the best. And Ryan? I expect you up very soon.”  
  
“Yes, Momma.”  
  
“Almost immediately,” she says sternly and Ryan sighs.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
As she leaves the room, she turns back and gives him a pointed look. “Your wife might come home.”  
  
“Momma!” Ryan yells and she’s gone. He turns back to Shane to find an incredulous look.  
  
“You got a wife? That is somethin’ you tell a guy!” He whispers fervently, backing away from Ryan.  
  
“No! Yes?” Ryan goes to fix his words as Shane scoffs. “Just listen, damn it! Yes, I had a wife. Legally, she still is. She went to jail. While she was gone, I found myself…questionin’ things and when she came back, she didn’t take kindly to me likin’ gentlemen. She left before we could divorce and Momma still thinks she’s comin’ back.”  
  
Silently, Shane sits down on the couch, considering what Ryan said. “Is she-,”  
  
“Is this really what you wanna be talkin’ about right now?” Ryan says lowly, taking his place on the couch straddling Shane’s lap. He traces Shane’s jawline, kissing him deeply.  
  
“I should-,”  
  
Ryan cuts Shane off with another kiss, pulling him even closer.  
  
“I’m serious-,”  
  
Once again, Shane is shut up. Ryan’s fingers curl in his hair, twirling his messy locks. Shane smirks against Ryan’s lips and growls, lifting him off of the couch and laying him on the floor. With fingers laced together, they-  
  
Three loud knocks at the door cause them to freeze.  
  
“You expectin’ company?” Shane whispers and Ryan shakes his head. Shane lifts himself off of the ground and peeks out of the window. Ryan watches as he yelps, stumbling away from the window.  
  
“Gah! It’s the laws!”  
  
Ryan is instantly on his feet, heart thundering in his chest.  
  
“I gotta go,” Shane says, panicked as he finds his way to the back door. Ryan grabs his arm.  
  
“What do I do?”  
  
Shane kisses him quickly. “I wasn’t here. Meet me tomorrow morning, eight o’clock.” His words are nearly slurred together. “Uh, 145 Oak Grove over in Harrison. Whistle.” Another kiss. “Or, uh, throw somethin’.” Another. “Second floor window on the far right.” One last one and he’s out the door, disappearing into the dark night. Ryan watches his shadow dart into the woods with wide eyes, trying his best to calm his racing heart.  
  
“Deep breaths, Ryan,” he says to himself, straightening his shirt and going to answer the door. “Ted, hey,” he greets the officer, a childhood friend of his. “Um, what are you doin’ here?”  
  
The man smiles kindly, brushing wavy dark hair out of his face. “Followin’ some leads on a prison break. I was in the neighborhood, thought I’d stop by and warn ‘ya not to open your door to strangers.” Ryan nods and Ted looks down, furrowing his eyebrows. “Guess you just did…”  
  
Ryan lets out a curtesy laugh. “Well, thanks. How’ve you-,”  
  
“Geez, I remember this house,” he says, walking around Ryan and studying the room. “When your grandma died.”  
  
“That was a long time ago,” Ryan points out and Ted turns around.  
  
“You know that was the first time I ever saw a dead body?” Ryan blinks, cutting his eyes to Ted in confusion. “I remember she was wearin’ all sorts of makeup but…You could still tell she was dead.”  
  
Ryan frowns, hugging his arms to his body. “I hated seeing her like that.” He sighs, lacing his fingers together. “Well, I appreciate-,”  
  
“So, uh, the guys and I are going out Saturday. There’s a party at William’s house if you wanna tag along.”  
  
Ryan winces, looking anywhere but the big, brown, pleading eyes before him. “Um, I don’t really…I mean...,” He trails off, trying to figure out a way to decline when Ted puts his hat back on and brushes past him.  
  
“Well, I better get back to work. I’ll stop by the diner on Thursday and you can let me know if you wanna come.”  
  
“Right,” Ryan says quietly, still hugging himself. “Thank you for the advice, Ted.”  
  
“You’re welcome. Give your mother my love.” With that, he’s out of the house and Ryan lets out the breath he had been holding.  
  
………  
  
That night, with the address Shane had given him tacked onto the wall, Ryan goes to sleep thinking of the man he met that day. It almost disturbed him how much he felt for him. Hell, he just met him. Shouldn’t these things take time?  
  
With those thoughts followed by pleasant, hopeful ones, Ryan drifts off under the comfort of the sheet Shane would have slept on.  
  
Instead of dreams of being a Hollywood star like most nights, these consist of lighthearted laughs and lips swollen from kissing, kissing, kissing away the sound of sirens in the field. He dreamt of soft brown eyes and long arms slung gently around his waist; of twinkling stars winking to life and reflecting in their eyes. Ryan doesn’t want it to end.  
  
…………  
  
Ryan shuffles his feet in the dirt, uneasiness setting in. What if this is the wrong place? What if Shane doesn’t want to see him? He sure seemed up for seeing Ryan last night and Ryan justifies that anyone who gets him to wake up at seven in the morning for nothing isn’t worth his time. The earliness really doesn’t help any.  
  
The chirping of birds just waking up to greet the still low sun fills Ryan’s ears, making it really hard to focus on the task at hand.  
  
Setting aside the thundering in his chest, Ryan lets out a two-note whistle, long enough that anyone in he area paying attention would hear it.  
  
Nothing happens for a split second and Ryan’s nerves multiply before slipping away as the door swings open. Shane, not even bothering to close the door, starts towards Ryan with a bright smile almost relieved.  
  
“Thought you wouldn’t wanna see me again,” Shane admits and Ryan blinks in disbelief.  
  
Whelp.  
  
Swallowing the fact that he just spent a thirty-minute drive worrying that his presence was unwanted, Ryan shakes his head.  
  
“Of course, not.” Ryan goes up on his toes to catch Shane in a kiss and nearly sighs as Shane trails his fingers over his face. As he pulls back, Shane grabs Ryan’s hand eagerly, tugging him to the door.  
  
“C’mon. I got people for you to meet.”  
  
Ryan lets Shane lead him into the house, being met with a kitchen. A small table sits in the corner and two people lean against the counter. Shane gestures to the two.  
  
“These are my folks. My brother, Buck,” he pauses, pointing to a man with unhooked long-johns and short sandy hair. He resembles Shane a little bit, but it’s clear which sibling got the looks. “And sister-in-law, Blanche.” Blanche, the woman with black hair pinned back, lifts her head, analyzing Ryan. She wears a rosary around her neck and has a hand towel slung over her shower.  
  
“And this,” Shane continues, now addressing the two, “is Ryan Bergara.” He wraps an arm around Ryan’s neck dragging him close. On instinct, Ryan hooks his left arm under Shane’s and the right going to wrap around Shane’s waist.  
  
Ryan can really get used to this kind of thing.  
  
Someone, most likely Blanche, clears their throat, stopping the two. To be fair, it did go uninterrupted for longer than socially acceptable. You know what else is socially unacceptable, though? Robbery, auto theft, and breaking out of prison. What’s a little bit of kissing?  
  
“Right,” Shane says, letting Ryan casually hug him from behind. “So, Buck, how you feelin’? Nice to be home?” Without letting the man answer, Shane continues, propping his foot on the chair at the table. “Cause I’ve got ideas.”  
  
Buck leans forward. “What kind of ideas?”  
  
“Kind that’ll get you outta this dump.” The man seems to consider this as Blanche crosses her arms.  
  
“Buck,” she says pointedly, though her husband and Shane pay no mind.  
  
“No offense, Blanche,” Shane says offhandedly before rushing right back to talking. “We’re gonna be free men. All we gotta do is hit up a few-,”  
  
“Buck,” Blanche tries again, though her voice is small under Shane’s.  
  
“-and when we get there, they’ll have to-,”  
  
“Buck!” Blanche yells, swatting her husband’s arm.  
  
“Oh, what do you want?” Shane snaps, annoyance clear in his voice.  
  
Blanche narrows her eyes, crossing the room and sitting in the other small chair at the table. She cuts her eyes to Buck and gestures to Shane. “Tell him.”  
  
Shane backs up, swinging Ryan around so that they stand side by side, arm draped across Ryan’s shoulders. “Tell me what?” He chuckles and Buck swallows audibly.  
  
Sounding a bit nervous, Buck cracks his knuckles. “I don’t-,”  
  
“Buck.” The warning in Blanche’s voice is more than enough to set even Ryan on edge.  
  
“I might have some ideas to?” The question is shaky and Shane smiles.  
  
“Well, then! Tell me!”  
  
Buck straightens up a bit, lifting his head. “Blanche thought that-,”  
  
A warning look from the aforementioned.  
  
“Well, and me too. We both thought that I should go back to jail.” With each word, his voice gets smaller and smaller and Shane goes rigid under Ryan’s touch.  
  
“You’re gonna what?”  
  
Blanche huffs, standing. “He’s gonna finish his sentence and be free from the law. If you had any sense, you would too.”  
  
Shane shakes his head, abandoning Ryan as he stalks close to her. “No, you don’t know what it’s like, Blanche,” he growls and Ryan wraps his arms around himself. “It ain’t exactly a bed of roses.”  
  
“Once you’re out, you’re out. No runnin’, no hidin’?” Blanche counters, taking a stand and straightening as much as she could, small against Shane. Ryan starts forward.  
  
“If it’s like that,” he says, going to grab Shane’s arm, “then how long is your-.”  
  
Shane shoves him right out of the way, not giving him a second thought. Ryan blinks from where he stands facing empty wall, bringing a hand to his mouth.  
  
“That ain’t gonna happen!” Shane yells at Blanche, who grits her teeth.  
  
“You can be forgiven.”  
  
Shane scoffs. “They ain’t gonna forgive me. There ain’t no forgivin’. Even if I tried. They’ve been lockin’ us up since we were kids.”  
  
“You’ve been stealin’ since you were kids,” Blanche says, lifting an eyebrow and Shane nearly explodes.  
  
“They put us in even when we didn’t do nothin’!  
  
“That’s true!” Buck voices, pointing to Shane.  
  
“Buck, how many times have they raided the Viaduct to haul us away for nothin’?”  
  
“Plenty.”  
  
“And—And what about when I was workin’?” Shane asks, voice climbing to a near impossible decibel. “They’d come pat me down right in front of the customers. Now, how’s a man supposed to keep a job?”  
  
“I meant,” Blanche grinds out, “forgiveness from the Lord. That’s the only thing that can set you free.” Shane laughs.  
  
“I ain’t never gonna be set free,” Shane says lowly, spitting on the wood at his feet and brushing past to hold out his hand to Ryan.  
  
“Let’s go, Sugar.”  
  
Ryan holds him back, cupping his neck. “Shane, maybe your brother has the right idea!”  
  
Shane glares at Buck. “My brother can do whatever the hell he wants. I’m not goin’ back.”  
  
“What if you did, though? We can go someplace else,” he says, grabbing his face to get Shane to look at him. “We want to get out of Dallas, anyway. We can get jobs someplace and work. I want you to be a man, darlin’, not a thug.”  
  
The pain is immediate, the crack is audible, and Shane’s hand flies across Ryan’s face, sending him backwards a few feet. He surges forward, grabbing Ryan by face. “Don’t you speak to me that way again, honey.”  
  
Ryan nearly bites through his lip, yanking Shane’s hand from his face and slapping him hard, perhaps harder that he was hit.  
  
“Don’t you ever raise a hand to me, babe.”  
  
Buck and Blanche had long since gone silent as Shane holds Ryan’s gaze for a few more seconds before storming out of the house.  
  
Ryan sighs, turning to follow him out when Blanche darts in his way. “My advice is to stay as far away from him as possible.” Ryan doesn’t meet her eyes and expects no goodbye as he slams the door shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this was a shit ton of dialogue. ok.  
> Thanks for reading!  
> Let me know it you liked it!!


	4. To Ryan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short one for new years! May 2018 be less horrible than the past few years.

The next week is an odd one for Ryan, going to work like usual and having dinner with his mother, but also staying after work “cleaning” until he hears the knock at the back door.  
  
Shane would be standing there, hands shoved into his pocket with a dopey smile. Ryan would laugh and open the door wide, letting him into the empty restaurant and sitting down for coffee. There was plenty to talk about, but once the stories of the day were voiced and the coffee was drained, they spent their time sitting atop the tables kissing.  
  
Ryan’s hands became accustomed to holding Shane’s and leaning against him felt like the most natural thing in the world. While they sipped whatever was left in the coffee after five o’clock, they’d share things from their past until they could recite each other’s life stories by heart.  
  
It almost erased the residual sting of being hit by Shane.  
  
…………  
  
On Thursday, Ted strolled into the diner, as promised. Ryan wouldn’t have minded if he didn’t come ten minutes before he got off. Not only would it seriously distract Ryan from work, but if Shane came and Ted was still there? Hell knows what would happen.  
  
Ryan felt a boulder fall into the pits of his stomach as he walked up to Ted, menu tucked under his arm. “Hi, Ted,” he says with a forced smile. “Would you like a table or booth?”  
  
“Neither,” Ted answers, rather rushed. “There’s been a robbery somewhere downtown, so I gotta make this quick. I wanted to check and see if you were up for Saturday?”  
  
Oh. That. Ryan presses his lips together. Come up with something fast, Bergara. “Damn, I promised my momma I’d help her make her lamb stew on Saturday.” He watches Ted’s face fall and quickly continues. “But I’ll be sure to come if we get done early enough.” There. False hope never hurt too many people.  
  
Ted nods, clasping his hands. “Well, you know where William’s home is. We won’t be done before midnight, surely.”  
  
“Alright,” Ryan says, waiting for Ted to leave. He can’t help but glance at the clock a few times and Ted seems to notice.  
  
“I don’t mean to hold you up. Have a nice evening.” He pushes the door open, letting the bell above chime, causing the waitress across the room to pop her head up on instinct. “Oh,” Ted says, catching the door from closing. Ryan fears a question about Shane is coming but is quick to mask his nerves. “If you have any lamb stew left? Bring it. Your momma makes the best.”  
  
Ryan laughs, nodding until Ted is out of the parking lot, where he lets his face fall. Looking at the clock one more time, he sees that it’s closing time and the inevitable increase in heart rate forces him to gnaw the smile off of his face. Only fifteen more minutes until Shane would come. Now, he just has to get the workers out. Figuring he has a few minutes to look natural, he grabs a spray bottle and wash rag, wiping down the tables on his half of the dining room.  
  
Aurelia, the other waitress that clears off stray utensils and sweeps up crumbs on her side, sighs. She wipes the stray hairs that fell into her face and Ryan looks up, knowing she’d stay until her area was clear.  
  
“I can get the rest, ‘Relia,” Ryan calls and Aurelia looks up in shock. Sure, they were friends, but to take up someone’s work? That deserves honor.  
  
“Are ya sure?” She asks, straightening and leaning on her broom. Her red hair is braided back and hazel eyes are wide.  
  
“Absolutely. Go home and get ready for the Friday crowd.” The Friday crowd is a joke between the two, as the day is their busiest. That morning, they’d give each other looks mixed with encouragement and pity.  
  
Aurelia, already sold on the idea and walking to put away her broom, looks over her shoulder. “What about you?”  
  
“Oh, I’ll be alright. My mom’s making cornbread and biscuits. Sitting in a home with those smells and not being able to eat yet? No way,” Ryan lies through his teeth, setting his bottle on a table and wiping his hands on his jeans.  
  
“If you insist,” Aurelia calls as she ducks into the break room to grab her bag. As she approaches the door and, subsequently, Ryan, she pats his arm. “Thanks, Ryan. I’ll make it up to you.”  
  
“No need,” Ryan tries to reply, but she’s already outside, slipping into a relatively new car. Ryan can’t help but be jealous, even if it’s just a little bit.  
  
Now, as he turns to face the dining room that he is tasked with to clean, he realizes just how messy Aurelia’s side was.  
  
…………..  
  
Ryan leans against the wall, waiting for the cook to exit the building. Duck, the cook that got his nickname during a particularly busy Saturday when he got so stressed he let out a bird-like sound, smiles. As he hangs up his hat, he eyes Ryan with mock suspicion.  
  
“You’re mighty eager to lock up. Got a honey comin’ after closing?”  
  
Wow. Right on the dot. Ryan laughs, shaking his head. “Nope. Just overflowing with generosity.”  
  
Duck smiles, tugging his jacket on. “Alright, alright. Just remember to turn the grills off before you leave. I’m burning the grease off.”  
  
“Right,” Ryan says, opening the door for the man and letting him pass through.  
  
“Have a nice night,” Duck yells over his shoulder and Ryan is left alone. Seeing that it’s 5:20, he finds a spot at the table closest to the back, waiting for the knock.  
  
Five minutes pass. Ten. Fifteen.  
  
By the time thirty minutes were long gone, the coffee pot is empty and Ryan had taken to lounging on top of the table. It seems as though Shane isn’t coming. That’s okay, right?  
  
On the drive home, Ryan convinces himself that Shane was just busy and that he’ll come tomorrow. Though it’s probably true, Ryan still feels down as he turns off of the highway, passing a beautiful new Ford speeding down the road.  
  
“Show off,” Ryan grumbles, unaware of the unusually large driver.  
  
He turns onto his road, gravel crunching under the tires. The sky is clear and the air is crisp and Ryan can’t help but imagine him and Shane back in the field. The sun isn’t even that low yet. He could make it and-  
  
“What the hell?” Ryan whispers to himself, climbing out of the driver’s seat and jogging to the front porch where a shopping bag sits on the welcome mat. He crouches, tugging it open and finding a gorgeous black three-piece suit. “Oh my god!” He yells before wincing at his volume. It would surely attract his mom’s attention. He sets the spectacular gift onto his lap, finding a gift card at the bottom of the bag.  
  
“To Ryan,” he reads aloud, “Sorry I couldn’t show tonight. I want to make it up to you. Tomorrow night, 6:00 pm, the address I gave you. We’ll go somewhere special.” The next few words cause Ryan’s cheeks to heat up, heart beginning to pick up pace. “I can’t wait to rip this off of you. Shane.”  
  
He nearly lets out a laugh in disbelief, carefully placing the suit back into the bag and hauling it inside.  
  
“What’s that, darlin’?” His mom says the minute he walks in and Ryan thanks his lucky stars he showed the card down at the bottom of the bag.  
  
“Oh, uh, Duck gave me some old clothes that don’t quite fit him anymore.”  
  
His mother lights up, clasping her hands. “Well, that’s very nice of him!”  
  
“Yeah,” Ryan replies, eyeing the stairs to his room. His mother chuckles.  
  
“I’ll call you for supper.”  
  
“Thanks, Momma,” he says, dropping a kiss on her forehead as he passes, climbing the stairs and laying the suit out on his bed, admiring it when he sees the price tag: a whopping one hundred-fifty dollars. No way in hell Shane could have…  
  
He stole it. Shane stole the damn thing. Ted was talking about a robbery downtown. That was it, surely. Despite his morals, Ryan hopes that they don’t catch Shane. Sure, he has a lot of trust in Shane and the man’s confidence doesn’t go without reason, but still.  
  
Even though he’s technically holding the suit illegally, Ryan smiles to himself. Ryan doesn’t really think he’s ever felt love, but if the constant warm feeling in his chest and butterflies just reading Shane’s name has anything to say? Or that Shane’s smile replaced the vivid Hollywood dreams?  
  
Damn. He might be in love with the next Al Capone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is terribly cold in my house but I've got a Bastille record to warm the heart.  
> Thanks for reading!  
> Comments keep me alive.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bit of fluffy stuff idk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhhh  
> -me

Ryan gasps in astonishment as he faces the mirror. He was able to persuade his boss to let him go thirty minutes early, giving Ryan plenty of time to get dressed and make the drive to Harrison. He flew inside, nearly tripping up the stairs. The suit was impeccable with sleek black fabric. Luckily, Ryan had some dress shoes from his wedding and the ability to comb his hair into something nice. He doesn’t think he looked this nice even on his wedding day.  
  
The realization that he really looks like a character on screen rattles through Ryan leaving him not wanting to leave the mirror for quite some time. It’s like when someone you love dies and you see them in a dream. You just want them to stay and be there when you wake up. Ryan touches his face lightly before tracing the seams of the suit.  
  
Unable to form a solid thought, he finds himself robotically turning towards the door and grabbing his key. As he walks down the stairs, he can’t shake the feeling that he’s not in Texas, but in California.  
  
“Ryan!” His mother interrupts his thoughts as she shouts in glee. “Darling, you look so handsome!”  
  
Ryan smiles, smoothing his hair. “Thank you.”  
  
“Where are you goin’ all dressed up like that?”  
  
Shit. “Ted invited me to a party at William’s house. Thought I might go.” Mrs. Bergara nods, considering his words.  
  
“I want you back by eleven.”  
  
“Yes, ma’am.” He heads to the door, twisting the cold knob when Mrs. Bergara calls out to him.  
  
“I love you, baby.”  
  
“Love you too, Momma.” He closes the door behind him, careful not to dirty the suit as he walks out to his car. “145 Oak Grove,” he whispers to himself, starting the engine.  
  
……..  
  
Instead of having to whistle, Shane is standing on the porch looking…  
  
“Whoa,” Ryan mumbles, putting the car in park and hopping out onto the dirt. Shane wears something similar to Ryan, but a grey color and obviously not as new or expensive. Even still, Ryan’s heart skips a beat, words stopping in his throat. Shane practically glows, looking like a damn god in the afternoon sun. His eyes sparkle as he grins, holding his arms out.  
  
“Good God, Ryan, you’re a stunner,” he breathes, stopping in his tracks.  
  
“Thanks to you,” Ryan laughs, nervously fiddling with his cufflinks.  
  
“No, babe,” Shane says lowly, approaching Ryan to give him a lingering kiss. “You do it all on your own.”  
  
Ryan flushes, ducking his head. “Well, I wouldn’t-,”  
  
“I would,” Shane cuts him off, kissing him one more time before grabbing his hand. “Come on,” he says, dragging him around the outside of the house.  
  
Though Ryan is thoroughly confused, he remains silent, letting Shane lead the way into the backyard. His eyes widen when he sees the gorgeous Ford he passed yesterday. It’s outside is pristine, shiny and new and Shane glows with pride.  
  
“Shane, you…you…”  
  
“Stole it. You can say it.”  
  
“Are you sure it’s safe to drive it?”  
  
“Sure,” Shane shrugs, which doesn’t really ease Ryan’s nerves. “Hop in.” He rounds the car, opening Ryan’s door for him and letting him climb in. As he turns the key, Ryan sees the growing smirk on Shane’s face. “Did you see any laws on your way here?”  
  
“No?” Ryan answers, cocking his head as Shane tightens his grip on the wheel.  
  
“Good. Hold on.”  
  
…………  
  
“Jesus Christ,” Ryan nearly yells as they whip around another corner, pushing 65 miles per hour. He holds the dashboard with a death grip and twists his head towards Shane, eyes wide.  
  
Shane looks utterly alive, the smile on his face can’t be compared to the ones he gives Ryan. Those are the ones you give your dog when they obey a command or when you get pleasant news. This smile is the kind that screams freedom. Perhaps this is the only type of freedom he’ll ever receive. His hair whips in the wind that flows through the open windows, tossing it into a way that looks almost feral. They blow through stop signs at top speed, Shane laughing at each one.  
  
“Where are we even going?” Ryan yells over the roar of the wind.  
  
Shane turns his head, eyes lit up with joy. “It’s a surprise!”  
  
Ryan’s knows that they for sure aren’t dining in Harrison. At least, that’s what he gathered when they passed the “Now Leaving Harrison, Texas” sign.  
  
Totally giving up on his hair, Ryan laughs, sticking his head out of the car and letting out a loud whoop. On the wind he hears a faint, “There’s my babe!”  
  
Ryan grins, feeling the wind on his teeth and in his hair. Maybe living like this isn’t so bad. Not so inexcusable.  
  
Maybe Shane has the right idea.  
  
……..  
  
“No way,” Ryan breathes as they turn into the lot of a high-end restaurant. You only find yourself inside when there’s a very, very special occasion. Like, say, Ryan’s wedding?  
  
“Yes way,” Shane answers, shutting off the engine and pushing his door open. Ryan is thrown out of his stupor when Shane opens his door and offers a hand to him. He takes it graciously and lets Shane lead him to the door. “Follow my lead,” Shane says under his breath and Ryan braces himself.  
  
“Reservation for Bergara?” He asks as they approach the attendant, who looks down at her list and smiles, grabbing two menus and gesturing for them to follow. Ryan’s caught up on the name. Was it a brother thing or a husband thing?  
  
“Right this way.”  
  
Ryan can’t help but ogle. The restaurant is like a portal to another world. Or, perhaps, a place that isn’t Rowena. The room is lit with a lamp at the end of each table and a large chandelier hangs from the ceiling. Ryan has to remember to breathe as the woman sits them down, telling them their waiter will be out momentarily.  
  
……………  
  
“This is, like, crazy expensive, Shane,” Ryan says under his breath, wondering if the man intends on eating and bailing. They had a generous amount of no doubt expensive liquor...Was that a bad idea? He stares at the bill with wide eyes and Shane digs into his pocket for a beaten-up wallet.  
  
“Not a problem.”  
  
Ryan blinks owlishly. “Did you…?”  
  
Shane laughs, shaking his head. “No, actually. Didn’t steal this. Wouldn’t use this if I did.” At Ryan’s sketched brow, he begins pulling money out. “I had a job at a grocery store for two years. I put the money away, promised myself to only use it for something incredibly important.”  
  
Stunned, Ryan fights a hint of a smile. “And…”  
  
“And,” Shane says, reaching across the table to grab Ryan’s hand, “you are something incredibly important.”  
  
Falling in love must have a sound to go with it, surely. Like the thundering of a heart. Or, more likely, those words. It’s almost as if Ryan feels a lock clicking into place behind his mind and—damn it—he’s probably in love with a criminal.  
  
He’s probably, maybe, most definitely in love with a criminal, sure, but also a man that’s sweet and hilarious and respectful. Well, to the right people.  
  
A few voices eat at his head, all whispering things that are somewhat similar. He won’t want to settle down, Ryan. He’s not looking for forever, Ryan. He’ll get you killed, Ryan. You can do better, Ryan.  
  
Maybe he can.  
  
But he sure as hell won’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this chapter was cute idk  
> I'm tired and I have to go back to school tomorrow i'm noT READY  
> Anywho, thank you for reading! Lemme know if you liked!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ugh shane just stop robbing people its not hard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it was so ironic that musical clyde barrow went to eastern state.

Ryan brings his shaky hands to his face, mostly to hide the more obvious quiver in his mouth.  
  
“Marvin Alvin Madej?” The judge starts with authority and Ryan slides his eyes over to Buck, who stands nervously in handcuffs. “On the conditions that you turned yourself in, your sentence has been shortened from two years to three months, where you will then be released into the custody of your wife.”  
  
Behind Ryan, the woman lets out a joyful yell, grabbing the back of Ryan’s pew. “Thank you, Jesus!” She laughs, standing and shoving her way to the front to personally rip Buck’s handcuffs off herself. Ryan swallows thickly, hoping the judge will be lenient on Shane.  
  
The night after they went for dinner, the night after Ryan fell in love, Shane had to have himself get caught robbing a damn gas station. Stupid Shane for getting caught by the stupid police. Stupid gas station attendant for not just handing over the stupid money. Stupid judge for looking so stupidly angry. Stupid Ryan for caring.  
  
Shane meets Ryan’s eye and sees how anxious he is and, maybe, Shane feels the same. Even so, he tries for a comforting smile and Ryan can’t bring himself to return it.  
  
“Shane Alexander Madej,” the judge interrupts Ryan’s racing thoughts. Shane’s head snaps towards the judge. “On the charges of robbery, auto theft, and prison escapement, you are hereby sentenced to 16 years at Eastern State Penitentiary.”  
  
Shane’s shoulders slump, Ryan goes numb, and chaos ensues…respectively.  
  
You’d have to be living under the world’s biggest rock to not hear the rumors about Eastern State. The inmates that make it out are never the same as before they went in. There’s talk of beating and starving, isolation chambers and intense labor and…worse things. Ryan tries to swallow the cotton in his mouth as he watches Shane’s mother shoot right up, diving to try and reach Shane.  
  
“You ain’t takin’ my boy there!” She screeches, clawing at the officers that hold her back. Blanche had turned to try and keep the rest of the family at bay, but they show the same ferocity as Shane’s mother.  
  
Ryan finds himself standing, not knowing what to do with his sudden rush of adrenaline other than blindly sliding forward, yanking on the uniformed arms that constrain Shane. The tall man lands a single blow to one of the men before they gain control, shoving Ryan off like he was a pesky fly and hauling Shane to the doors.  
  
Ryan, still in a moderate amount of shock, finds himself calling out for Shane. “I love you!”  
  
Shane tosses his head back, eyes fixed on Ryan’s face. As he disappears into another room, Ryan catches the words, “I love you, babe!”  
  
“Go with them before they put you behind another set of bars,” Ryan hears Blanche snap at Buck, though he tunes her out. He’s too busy figuring how to change his schedule to give him time to catch a train to Philadelphia.  
  
…………

  
Ryan hears his footsteps echo in the monstrous building as he quickly searches each cell for Shane. He passes Buck, giving him a nod, before continuing. Shane would be held in the tri-county prison until they could get the people to transport him to Pennsylvania and Ryan intended to visit every day.  
  
Ryan, so horrified by the prison’s grime, almost misses the cell with a hand outstretched. “Ryan, babe,” Shane’s voice says desperately, and Ryan lets out a breathy sigh. He hauls tail to the cell, gripping the rusty bar with one hand and Shane’s hand in the other. In the cell’s darkness, Shane’s dark eyes are fixed on Ryan’s as Ryan drags Shane’s head towards the bars, kissing him long and deep.  
  
“Shane,” Ryan breathes so the inmates near can’t hear. “I’ve been miserable without you. I can’t think of anything else.”  
  
“I know, baby, I know,” Shane mumbles quickly, carding his fingers through Ryan’s hair and he kisses him again. It’s messy and desperate and Ryan grits his teeth as he pulls away. “I’m so sorry.”  
  
“When you get out, Baby, you are goin’ straight,” he near begs, gripping Shane’s arms through the bars. “We’ll go someplace and work.”  
  
Shane tilts his head forward. “Yeah,” he says quietly, before saying it louder, surer. “My cousin has a construction business in Oklahoma. We can go there.” Ryan smiles, touching his forehead to Shane’s. Shane laughs softly. “And, besides, there are places to rob there, just like here if that falls through.”  
  
“No,” Ryan insists, pulling back. “You are goin’ straight, Shane. No more hold-ups, got it?”  
  
Shane cups Ryan’s cheek with a lazy smile. “I got it.”  
  
“Good,” Ryan hums, pulling back quickly when Shane tries to kiss him. “I do, though, have to get to work.”  
  
Shane makes a small ‘aww’ sound and Ryan laughs. “I’ll be back tomorrow, okay, babe?”  
  
“Okay.” He kisses Ryan’s forehead. “I love you.”  
  
“I love you, too.”  
  
Ryan turns on his heel, willing himself not to turn back and look at Shane. The guard at the end of the hall scowls at Ryan as he passes and Ryan accidentally brushes shoulders with—  
  
“Ryan!” Ted grins before looking down, the smile becoming more nervous.  
  
“Hey, Ted,” Ryan says with forced enthusiasm, eyeing the door.  
  
“You didn’t come Saturday,” He says, sounding a bit sad. Ryan winces.  
  
“Yeah, that. I’m sorry.” The silence is awkward at best and Ted interrupts it.  
  
“Um, what are you doin’ here?” Ted lifts an eyebrow and Ryan can’t quite fabricate a lie. He clasps his hands.  
  
“Just visitin’ someone.”  
  
Ted narrows his eyes in confusion. “Visiting? Who?”  
  
Seeing no reason to lie, Ryan lets it out. “Madej. Er—Shane Madej.” Ted blinks before tilting his head back with a defensive grunt.  
  
“What are you doing with the likes of Shane Madej? How do you know him?” Disgust is clear in Ted’s tone and Ryan pretends it doesn’t bother him.  
  
“Friend of a friend?”  
  
Ted crosses his arms. “I don’t know who your friend is but you’d better stay away from him. He’s dangerous.”  
  
Ryan’s beginning to hear that a lot.  
  
He clears his throat, nodding and sidestepping Ted, marching towards the door. This time, not looking back is no trouble.  
  
……………..  
  
“So,” Ted starts, eyeing Shane suspiciously. He taps his finger against the bars and Shane regards him with frigid eyes. “How do you know Ryan Bergara?”  
  
Shane scoffs. “Why do you care, Officer Friendly?”  
  
Ted rolls his eyes, leaning closer.  
  
“What’d he say we were?” Shane says with amusement. “Just curious.”  
  
Ted examines his fingernails, playing coy. “Assumin’ you aren’t capable of love? He’s your pretty little bedmate. I’m surprised you care enough to recognize his name.”  
  
“You’re wrong,” Shane growls defensively, squeezing the bars as tight as possible. Seeing, though, the resigned sadness on Ted’s features, Shane understands.  
  
Ted is jealous.  
  
“I don’t know,” Shane hums, “I’d say we put the love in lovemakin’.” Really, though, it’s no lie.  
  
“Bastard!” Ted yells, banging his fist against the cell door in a sudden outburst. He grabs Shane’s face with one hand, causing Shane to slap it away.  
  
“Don’t touch me,” he grinds out. “Or Ryan.”  
  
“Aw,” Ted spits, “Is the little doggie protective of his bone?”  
  
“This little doggie will kill to get back to his bone, so stay away from him.” The last half is brutal and Ted laughs, backing up.  
  
“You know you’re threatnin’ an officer of the law.”  
  
“Oh no,” Shane says with mock fear. “Let’s hope they don’t find me and put me in jail!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idek


	7. Raise a Little Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: SEXUAL ABUSE (HINTED, BUT PRETTY CLEAR WHAT'S HAPPENING), PHYSICAL ABUSE

Hey, baby,” Ryan’s mother greets, waltzing right past the front desk and up to Ryan, who is grabbing the bill for a customer.  
  
“Momma,” Ryan says as she engulfs him in a hug. “Watcha doin’ here?”  
  
It had been a week since Shane had been transported to Eastern State and due to the distance, Ryan was only able to go up once. He had been appalled at the prison’s menacing walls, sure that the place was hell on earth. With every step echoing down the long, narrow hallways, Ryan felt his very being desperate to retreat. He only felt that when he walked into the courthouse when his…wife was arrested.  
  
“I was just sayin’ hi.” Okay, that’s false and Ryan knows it.  
  
“Well,” Ryan says, slipping the pen from his apron pocket, “the boss said he could only keep the place going for a while.” Truly, the idea scared him. How else was he supposed to get money when all the sustainable jobs are slipping through the government’s fingers?  
  
“I know,” his mother sighs, though she seems as though she’s trying to work up the nerve to say something.  
  
“Can I drop this off real quick?” He holds up the slim piece of paper in his fingers. At her nod, he saunters away, smiling kindly at the old woman in the corner booth. “Thank you for coming, Ma’am,” he says and she smiles back.  
  
“Thank you, son.”  
  
Ryan turns on his heel and walks back to his mom, the serious look on her face unnerving him.  
  
“Betsy told me she saw you getting on a train to Philly.” Her eyes display curiosity, but her voice is stern.  
  
“Must have been someone else, someone that looks like me,” Ryan tries to lie with an easy smile.  
  
“Why are you lyin’ to me, Ryan? What in the world is keepin’ my boy from tellin’ me things?”  
  
He looks up, pressing his lips together and trying to ignore the churning in his stomach. “I’m in love, Momma,” Ryan says weakly, watching her eyes snap up.  
  
“You’re married,” Mrs. Bergara says sharply and Ryan cuts her off from further reason.  
  
“You and I both know she isn’t coming back. I wouldn’t want her if she did.”  
  
“Why are you flirting with someone in Philly?”  
  
“Well…Well, he doesn’t live there. He’s just staying there for a short time.” Please, don’t figure out. Please, for the love of God, don’t figure out.  
  
“He?” Mrs. Bergara mirrors quietly and Ryan freezes. He never told her. Did he ever plan to? Well, sure, but not this soon. “What’s in Phil—,” she crosses her arms. “Ryan Bergara, you are flirtin’ with a convict?”  
  
“I’m not flirtin’, Momma, I-,”  
  
“Ryan, you must have lost your-,”  
  
“I love him!” Ryan yells, attracting a few pairs of eyes as a hush rolls over the diner. He huffs, dragging his mother by the arm into the break room.  
  
“You love who? Who do you love, hm?” Her voice is an accusation more than a question and Ryan straightens up.  
  
“Shane Madej.”  
  
“Shane Madej? The boy who spent the night in our home? You let a convict into our house?” Her voice raises as she speaks and though Ryan has a good half-head on her, he’s never felt so small. He shakes his head, listening to her trying to give him reason before turning, angrily ripping his apron off.  
  
“I love him, Momma!”  
  
“You don’t know him! And what you do know ain’t so good.”  
  
“I know him! I know everything about him! His favorite-,”  
  
“Ryan.” Her voice is a threat in and of itself and, though it’s a low blow, Ryan tries to reason with her.  
  
“You said you and Dad fell in love when you first met, so-,”  
  
“Don’t you dare say that. Your father was a wonderful husband and damn good father to you, so don’t ever compare him to a convict.” Her voice is severe, the terrifying kind that even strict parents rarely use, the kind that shakes Ryan to the core.  
  
“Mom?” He breathes, trying to fight the tightness in his throat and tears in his eyes.  
  
“I will see you at home.”  
  
He watches her go with watery eyes, waiting until she’s out of the restaurant to let the first choked sob out. Not trying to cover his mouth or wipe away the angry tears rolling down his cheeks. Trembling, nearly numb, he backs into a corner, letting his legs give out until he’s sitting, hugging his knees.  
  
“I don’t care what they say,” Ryan says to himself. “I don’t care.”  
  
Of course, he was concerned at first. Logically, the worst thing to do is fall in love with Shane Madej. His heart, though? All it could see was Shane. Maybe not the future, but the now. So, it’s true. He doesn’t care. He knew what he got himself into.  
  
It’s odd. He’s fully willing to except Shane in all his flaws, his vices and virtues, his overjoyed smile and goofy jokes and stormy eyes. He never felt like that with his wife. Besides, he wouldn’t change him if he could. Nobody radiates goodness all the time, he wouldn’t force someone to do that.  
  
Sometimes, people…like him say something that he thinks is hilariously ironic. ‘You love who you love.’ It’s so true it hurts, like how common sense just pounds against you but you intentionally ignore it. At least, it does when you’re in love with a criminal.  
  
Ryan tilts his head up, letting it rest on the wall. He finds that he only cares that Shane’s his. Seeing his mom’s horrified face makes him realize just how anyone else would hate to be in his shoes, but considering the flutter in his heart at the thought of his voice, he’d say the shoe fits just fine.  
  
Maybe, just maybe, Ryan realizes, the reason Ryan fell in love with Shane was because of how wild he was. How Ryan knew that the fire that resided in Shane’s eyes and soul could burn the world down, but leave a path for Ryan.  
  
………  
  
“You…you gotta help me, I’m beggin’ ya,” Shane says, trembling as his fists drag against the concrete floors. “You know what he’s doin’ to me.” His teeth are grit hard, more than enough to hurt, but his desperation and panic override anything. The side of his face pounds, egging on the throbbing headache that syncs with his heavy heartbeat. The smell of blood pervades his nose, the nosebleed running into his gaping mouth.  
  
The guard laughs, teasing Shane through the gates. “Who, Ed Crowter?”  
  
Even the name sends prickles of fear down Shane’s spine.  
  
The second guard props his hands on his fists. “Aw, c’mon. Ed’s just bein’ friendly. He likes you.”  
  
“K-Keep,” Shane says raggedly, trying and failing to push himself off of the floor. “Keep him away from me.”  
  
“Nah,” the first guard uses. “I think he’ll wanna see you again.”  
  
As the two saunter off, leaving Shane to his agony, he situates himself to face the opposite wall, propped against the bars. Though the cold metal goes right through his shirt, Shane’s head is hot and the blood doesn’t help.  
  
He tries clenching and unclenching his fists, wincing and slowly burying his face in his hands, careful of the blossoming bruise aside his cheek and forehead. He can’t do it. Not anymore. He promised Ryan he’d wait the sixteen years, grin and bear it until he’s out but…  
  
He’s gotta do it. He’s gotta kill Ed Crowter.  
  
Sure, he’s stolen and vandalized many things, but he’s never murdered. That’s something he never thought he’d have to do but seeing his own scraped knuckles and cracked skin, it becomes clear.  
  
If he saw Ed again, he wouldn’t hesitate.  
  
………………….

  


 

Ryan eyes the guard angrily. Was all of this necessary? The man, well into his fifties, surely, bats his baton against Ryan’s side once again. His stick travels down his leg, tapping randomly. It’s pretty damn clear that Ryan doesn’t have anything on him but have it your way, I guess.  
  
After far too long, a time filled with uncomfortable silence and random tapping noises, the man lets Ryan go, free to nearly sprint to Shane’s cell because, dammit, the place is horrible and Ryan is perfectly content with not staying here longer than needed.  
  
He tries not to make eye contact with any of the inmates, who clutch the bars and eye him, some with idle curiosity and some more menacing. Come closer, they seem to taunt. See how far I’ll go.  
  
Letting loose an uncomfortable cough, he quickens his paces, ignoring the random noises of living. Someone sick sniffling, a sigh, a clear of a throat. It seems so mundane but inside of these godforsaken walls? They’d drive you mad.  
  
“Hey, Madej,” Ryan hears from the guard at the end of the block. “Your other boyfriend’s here.” He laughs shortly and Ryan breaks into a jog, sliding to his knees when he sees the crumpled, bloody mess that Shane is. Blood streams from his nose and the left side of his face is swollen and dark.  
  
“Baby,” he says wildly, cupping Shane’s neck, who looks up with half-lidded eyes. “Oh my God, Baby, what happened to your face? What’s going on?”  
  
Shane makes a small noise, trying to talk, but Ryan grabs the bar in a steel grip, standing up as his voice raises. “Can I complain? Can I do something?! Somebody help him!”  
  
Shane shushes him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back down. He leans in and Ryan sees how red-rimmed his eyes are. “G-Gas station on Pine. There’s a gun under the third stair. Please—Please.”  
  
“I will,” Ryan says, voice thick with tears of confusion and fear and anger.  
  
“Pretty bad fall down some stairs,” a voice behind him says casually and he jumps up, jabbing a finger in the guard’s chest.  
  
“This doesn’t happen by stairs. This doesn’t happen on accident.” Maybe it’s the sheer ferocity inn his voice that causes the guard to narrow his eyes, all decorum lost.  
  
“Visiting time is over,” he spits and Ryan bends back down on his knee, kissing Shane gently.  
  
“Get me what I asked,” he whispers to Ryan as he backs up and Ryan doesn’t need to nod to show he heard.  
  
“I’ll come back here every single day,” he says to the guard as if it’s a threat and Ryan supposes he takes it as one, because he takes a solid grip on Ryan’s forearm.  
  
“Get your hands off of him,” Shane growls and a terrifying light sparks in the other man’s eye.  
  
“I’ll be back for you later. Ed Crowter wants to see you.”  
  
…………..  
  
The next morning, the paper’s headline reads:  
  
EASTERN STATE PENITENTIARY, INMATE FOUND DEAD, NO SUSPECTS  
  
And for some reason, Ryan feels a little safer reading it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaaand the plot thickens. 
> 
> Like it? Lemme know, I thrive on validation! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3


	8. This Never Happened Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My favorite part tbh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some sensitive stuff near the end, touches the sexual harassment Shane faced, but with a four foot pole.

“It’s not much,” Shane’s mother confesses, handing a smiling Ryan a paper bag. “Just shoes and a bible.”  
  
Ryan shakes his head, accepting the bag. “I’m sure he’ll be grateful.” He tucks the bag into his elbow, doing his best to cover the bulge of the handgun under his coat.  
  
“Ryan, I wanna thank you,” Mrs Madej says, patting the side of his face. In the morning light, she looks almost like Shane, though considerably older. “You are really the only light in Shane’s life. I don’t know what he’d do without you.”  
  
Ryan flushes at the words, leaning into her touch. “Thank you, Ma’am. I’ll give Shane your love.”  
  
“Thank you, Ryan.”  
  
Not looking back as he strides over to the car Shane had stolen, Ryan has a feeling he won’t visit Shane’s parents with a clean conscience for a while.  
  
………….  
  
Ryan’s chest feels tight as the guard by the front entrance walks over to pat him down. He hid the small gun strapped to the inside of his forearm, hoping the guard wouldn’t stoop to check everywhere.  
  
“Visiting?” The man asks, not sounding particularly pleased to be there. Ryan mutters an affirmation and the guard gets to patting the outside of Ryan’s arms.  
  
Ryan’s heartbeat is loud in his own ears as the hands get closer the gun before coming away and letting Ryan lift his arms up to check his torso. So, he really did it that easily. Disbelief courses through his veins and he distantly feels a hand slip inside his coat, checking the inside pocket and—  
  
“What’s this?” The guard asks, roughly pulling a pack of cigarettes from the pocket and Ryan presses his lips together.  
  
“My momma don’t like me smokin’.”  
  
The guard rolls his eyes, handing Ryan the cigarettes and gesturing for him to continue on with whatever he’s doing.  
  
Feeling butterflies swarming in his stomach, Ryan sets a small smile on his face, head and chest held high as he walks down Shane’s cellblock. The inmates eye him as usual, most familiar with who he’s visiting. Some, though, seem to look nervous, eyeing the direction that he’s going rather than Ryan himself.  
  
Odd.  
  
Shane, ready for Ryan’s arrival, grabs him the second Ryan’s in front of his cell, kissing him deeply. Ryan curls an arm around Shane’s neck, fingers twirling in his hair as Shane lets his hand wander up his sleeve to slip the gun out. He pulls back just a bit, lips still brushing Ryan’s as he whispers.  
  
“Wait in the car. I’m right behind you.”  
  
Ryan hums, gripping the bars and cocking his head. “This is it, here?”  
  
Shane’s smile says it all.  
  
“Bye, babe,” Ryan chuckles, hitting the wall and walking right back towards the guard. Behind him, echoing off the walls of the cell block, he hears the sound of a cell opening and a few grunts. Ryan holds himself steady, slipping right out of the front door and casually sliding into the passenger seat of the car he brought with him, the one Shane stole.  
  
Ryan tries not to let his hands shake as he tries to keep his thundering heart at bay. If he goes through with this, he’d be a fugitive. Eyes darting from the front entrance of the prison to the door handle to his right. Maybe this isn’t a good idea. Maybe he should bail now. Maybe Shane isn’t worth a life on the run…But that’s not true. Not the last one, at least.  
  
Sooner than Ryan expected, the doors bust open and Shane came hurtling out from inside, thin shirt sticking to his chest with sweat as he flees the man that chases after him. Ryan, feeling the adrenaline in his veins, leans over and flings open Shane’s door, planting himself back in his seat and Shane falls into the car.  
  
“Go, go, go!” Ryan yells, clutching his elbows to stop from shaking.  
  
“I’m going,” Shane replies, out of breath as they tear onto the empty road. If the time that they rode with Shane driving was fast, this was absolutely insane. Ryan holds his hat down as Shane grips the wheel as tight as possible, whipping around corners as he looks back, calculating how far away they are from the police cars following.  
  
“This is crazy. This is actually crazy. You’re crazy. I’m crazy,” Ryan rambles, leaning forward in his seat.  
  
“It’s ok,” Shane says, somewhat distantly.  
  
“Okay,” Ryan mutters, turning his attention back to make sure the laws weren’t on their heels.  
  
Whether he likes it or not, Ryan is running from the law like a mouse from a menacing, stray feline.  
  
……..  
  
Ryan’s chest still rises and falls rapidly, resting his forehead in his hands.  
  
“Hey,” Shane says quietly, hand coming to press gently in-between Ryan’s shoulder blades. “It’s ok. They won’t find us here.”  
  
“Promise?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Ryan lifts his face, glancing around the dusty interior of the hideout Shane had pulled up at, several counties north of the prison. It was old and small, but Ryan liked it well enough. For once in the past few hours, he feels a sliver of safety. A kerosene lamp flickers in the corner and Shane holds Ryan flush against his chest as the two sit on the floor. They had drawn all of the old curtains and driven the car out in the back. The police would have to really look to find them, and even then, they keep low.  
  
“You can relax, Ry,” Shane whispers in Ryan’s ear, fingers trailing down Ryan’s bare arms. Unknowingly, Ryan had tensed up again. Upon realizing, he exhales, leaning his head back against Shane. “We’re safe.”  
  
Ryan sighs, frowning slightly. “Shane, you promised you’d go straight.” His tone is flat, still numb with his racing thoughts. He clears his throat, shifting to where he’s looking directly at Shane’s pained eyes. “I want to be in movies, remember? I can’t name a single star who’s doing robberies as a hobby.” His voice becomes that of desperation and Shane grabs his hand.  
  
“Ryan, you know-,”  
  
“In my heart, Shane, Hollywood’s callin’. I can’t exactly shine when we have to keep a low profile.”  
  
“Ryan, babe, I know.” He clutches Ryan’s face, kissing him gently. “But we can’t get to Hollywood broke. One or two jobs will have us set. I promise.” Ryan remembers the term ‘job’ from their first meeting. Would he be an accomplice?  
  
“Then,” Shane grins, moving his thumb softly against Ryan’s cheek, “we’re off. Goodbye, Texas.”  
  
That does sound tempting. Ryan casts an unsure eye to their shadows on the wall, flickering in the candlelight. “After that, we’re done?”  
  
“Love, when Hollywood get’s a hold of you, they’ll be saying ‘Linder who?’”  
  
Chuckling, Ryan turns his head back to meet Shane’s crinkled eyes. “Really?”  
  
“’Course. Ry, this whole damn world’s gonna remember us.”  
  
Ryan laughs, snaking his arms around Shane’s neck and drawing him closer. “You know, it’s been a long time since we’ve had a night together,” he says lowly and Shane growls, standing up instantaneously.  
  
“Bedroom on our left,” he’s able to get out before Ryan rises and dives into his arms, kissing hard.  
  
“God, I missed you,” Ryan stays in-between Shane dragging him backwards and the two gasping for air. They stumble into the only bedroom. Though it’s terribly small, even by Ryan’s standards, he couldn’t care less as Shane picks him up. Ryan finds himself wrapping his legs around Shane on instinct as his hands find the hem of Shane’s shirt, tearing it off and tossing it into the corner.  
  
Shane falls backwards onto the queen bed, biting at the skin on Ryan’s neck. “You know,” Shane breathes, “the whole time I was in there, all I could think of was getting back to you.”  
  
Ryan kisses the words away, feeling Shane fumble with the small buttons of his shirt…and freeze.  
  
Slowly, Ryan pulls back, finding Shane’s face in the dark. “What’s wrong? Did I cross a line? Shane, babe, I’m so sorry,” he rambles, sliding off of Shane and sitting on his knees above him.  
  
“No, no, no. It’s not you, Ryan, I promise. It’s just…,” Shane pauses, gnawing on his lip. Ryan cocks his head, laying down sideways on the bed. Not too close to Shane, though. “I haven't done this in a while. What they did to me back there? What…he did to me…. It might take me a bit of time.” His voice is miserable. “I’m sorry.”  
  
“Shane,” Ryan breathes, sliding to bury his face in Shane’s chest, arms pulling him close. “Just hold me. I don’t need sex, Shane. I just need you. I don’t ever want you to feel pressured to do something with me.” He feels Shane begin to object, but he jumps in before he can. “Just being here with you is perfect.” Shane’s body loses tension, relaxing as he presses a light kiss to the top of Ryan’s head.  
  
“I ain’t been sleepin’ for a while.” Ryan’s heart is cleaved in two at how guilty Shane sounds and he hugs him even tighter. “I promise I’ll be ol’ ‘lover boy Shane’ in no time, though.” His voice is full of self-loathing and Ryan sweeps in.  
  
“Let’s take this one night at a time, okay? I’m right here. I’ll always be right here.”  
  
Shane huffs a laugh, resting his chin on the top of Ryan’s head. “I’m sorry. This night should’ve been so much more.”  
  
“I told you, Shane. Being with you is enough. It’s more than enough. This is heaven, babe,” he mutters, breathing in Shane’s scent. God, he missed that scent.  
  
“Feel that way, too.” Ryan can hear the gentle smile in Shane’s voice, the quiet murmur of his heart in Ryan’s ears. “I love you.”  
  
“I love you more.”  
  
That night, putting aside the fact that they are wanted fugitives, they fall asleep in each other’s arms. The hum of cicadas pulls them into a sleep that’s much more peaceful than those spent in the prison cell or alone at home. Ryan drifts off with Shane’s arms wound tight around him, showing no sign of letting go as his body curls around Ryan.  
  
For the first time in a while, time stopped. For now, things would be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It Has Been 18 Years.  
> No, really, I didn't think it had been this long. There were a bajillion writing contest entries I had to type up and time slipped away until it's been--what--a month? Sorry!  
> Hope this sorta makes up for my absence?  
> Let me know if you like! Comments and kudos are food to the soul.  
> Thanks for reading!


	9. High Hopes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who knew the job of the get-away driver was so nerve-wracking?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unannounced hiatus, much?  
> This is a little test to see if this is worth continuing I guess.  
> Enjoy?

(For the first time in a while, time stopped. For now, things were alright.)  
  
Until they weren’t.  
  
“Shane, are you sure about this?” Ryan’s voice is low and breathy as he grips the steering wheel.  
  
“Very.” Shane’s body is a stark contrast to Ryan’s, who sits tensely as the man beside him shrugs an empty bag onto his shoulder. “I believe in you, Ry. It’s easy. Just wait ‘til I get in and book it.”  
  
“If you need help?”  
  
“I’ll whistle.” They both knew he wouldn’t. He slides his eyes over to where Ryan begins fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “Babe,” he murmurs, leaning over the divider and grasping Ryan’s clammy hand. “It’ll be ok. I’ve done this a thousand times.”  
  
“Is now a good time to point out you’ve been locked up for at least a third of those?”  
  
Shane huffs a laugh, reaching up to run a hand through Ryan’s hair. “Probably not.” He turns to pick up the gun in his lap, examining it once before shoving it in his coat pocket. He smooths a hand over his hair once and looks back at Ryan with an encouraging smile. “You’re gonna do great, babe, just don’t think about it.”  
  
Ryan nods, still looking down at his fingertips drumming on the steering wheel. “And you? You’ll…be okay? I mean, I know you will. I’m sorry, I’m just…I don’t know.”  
  
Shane watches his boyfriend blabber nervously before reaching over and pulling his face closer to kiss him. “I’ll be okay.” He kisses him once more before exiting the vehicle, leaving Ryan to desperately control his breathing. He scans the lot, watching people file in and out of the general store. He watches a bird fly over the building, watches a cat strut leisurely into the woods. Palms slick with sweat, he tries to rub his hands along his pants.  
  
Time seems to slow. Is Shane okay? Does the store owner have a gun? Who would shoot first? Ryan shakes his head as if to knock those thoughts out. Shane is fine. He’s done this many times. This should be better, even, because it’s a two-man job.  
  
Oh…  
  
It’s a two-man job. Ryan is an accomplice. Ryan is officially a criminal. Well, to backtrack, helping a prisoner escape counts as criminal activity, right?  
  
“Interesting weather we’re having today,” Ryan mumbles sarcastically, a sorry attempt at distracting himself. The calming smell of pine on the wind stills the shaking in his hands as he takes several deep breaths. With the cool air on his brow and the silence of the car, Ryan’s heart slows to its normal, steady beat. He grips the steering wheel, ready to step on the gas and tear out of the parking spot.  
  
Ryan counts his breaths, chest buzzing with energy. The only thing he’s able to do is shudder when he hears a shout from inside the store. He hears Shane’s unmistakable commanding boom and Ryan presses his lips together, hoping he’s never on the receiving end of that. What would elicit that?  
  
Before Ryan has time to trot down that dark hole, he spots Shane sprinting towards the car. The previously empty bag is now filled to the brim and the storeowner follows, face red with anger. Wide-eyed shoppers watch from the open door. Before Shane is even fully in the car, Ryan can hear him yelling thunderously.  
  
“Go, go, go!”  
  
Ryan makes sure at least half of Shane’s body is inside before he bites down on his lip and puts all his weight on the gas, slinging the car onto the main road and listening to Shane let out a loud whoop. Too scared to celebrate the first narrow escape, Ryan’s white-knuckled grip doesn’t let up as he spies the laws following.  
  
“How are you so excited when the police are chasing us!?” Ryan shouts over the wind, heartbeat thundering in his chest.  
  
Choosing not to answer, Shane simply replies, “Turn left up here!”  
  
Ryan complies, hearing the squeal of the tires as he clamps down on his tongue to keep from screaming. He’s being chased by the police like a cat after a terrified, inexperienced mouse. “Shane,” he breathes, unaware of where he is or where to go. How exactly do you shake off the police? He tries to think back to the day Ryan helped Shane escape, but the memories blur together.  
  
“You’re doing great,” Shane assures, digging into his jacket as Ryan can clearly see the faces of the enraged officers in the cop-spotter. Shane shifts, sticking his arm out of the car and shooting at the vehicles in pursuit.  
  
“A-Are you mad?!” Ryan manages, dragging his eyes from the road to the man beside him.  
  
“Jus’ the tires, Ry. I’m not killin’ anyone.”  
  
Something Ryan knows, though, is that he wouldn’t hesitate. No, Shane would shoot in a heartbeat, especially if Ryan was going to be hurt. Of course, Ryan knew that, but the look in Shane’s eyes confirms it. Freedom dances in his wild gaze, lips tugged upward. Ryan would have been a fool to try and stick him in an office. The chase is half the thrill for him. Did Ryan just sign his death warrant?  
  
Shane’s barking laugh shakes Ryan from his thoughts as the car behind them skids to a stop, the man in the passenger seat leaping out. He rips his hat off, snarling at the tire riddled with bullet holes. Ryan doesn’t care to watch any more as Shane instructs him to take another left.  
  
…………  
  
Sweating as the last bit of sunlight begins to retreat, kind of like his innocence, Ryan runs a hand through his hair. “Why do we have to park so far away?” The safe house was about twenty minutes away from the store, but they drove an extra ten to park the car in the woods amid brush and trees to conceal it. The only thing left to do was walk back. Ryan had nearly whimpered at the prospect. The only thing he wanted was a bath, not to march through the woods in thick silence.  
  
“Didn’t know I was boarding the complain train,” Shane chuckles, readjusting the bag slung over his shoulder. Ryan shoots him a look as Shane shakes his head, throwing an arm around Ryan’s waist. “Thank you for helping, babe.”  
  
Ryan nods, leaning into the touch as they tread carefully. “Just in case they look for footprints,” Shane had said.  
  
“If you don’t want to do it again, I understand. I’ll keep you safe, Ry,” Shane promises tenderly, letting his fingers trail in mindless circles.  
  
Ryan almost gratefully agrees, but he pauses. Who would help Shane?  
  
“No, I—um—I’d like to help more.” In response, Shane slides surprised eyes over to meet Ryan’s. “Besides,” Ryan breathes with a laugh, “I guess it was kind of fun.”  
  
The light in Shane’s eyes as he grins is enough to make Ryan lean into him more. “There’s my boy.”  
  
Ryan takes a look at the bag. “How many more ‘til we can get to California?”  
  
Seeming confused, Shane blinks before meeting Ryan’s eyes with an easy smile. “A few and we should be good to go, babe.” Maybe he only said it to make Ryan smile. As it is known, there would be no California.  
  
Ryan smiles wider as the safe house creeps into view. Maybe, if days like this repeated, they’d get off with their hands blood-free.  
  
………

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been 6,000 years. Time just slipped away from me ah I'm sorry.  
> Thanks for reading! It was nice getting the feel of writing again.  
> <3


	10. Shadow of the Law

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan decides to get even more involved. Shane isn't opposed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know anymore lol

Ryan’s eyelids flutter open and he quickly tosses his head to the side to avoid the sunlight. Beside him, Shane remains fast asleep, chest slowly rising and falling under Ryan’s splayed hand. Ryan studies the way Shane’s mouth twitches occasionally, his striking features illuminated.  
  
“Shane,” Ryan mumbles, wrapping his arm around Shane’s chest. He presses a kiss to his shoulder. “Shane, baby, wake up.”  
  
Shane groans, arching his back, eyes still shut tight. “What time is it?”  
  
“Time for you to wake up,” Ryan insists, hugging the man tighter. “How’d you sleep?”  
  
Shane chuckles, curling on his side to meet Ryan’s bright eyes. He gives him a lazy smile, reaching forward to trace the outline of Ryan’s upturned lips. “Better with you here.”  
  
In Shane’s adoring gaze, Ryan spots shadows flickering, those horrible memories of Eastern State residing within. His heart breaks and he tries to fish for something, anything, to lighten the mood.  
  
“So, yesterday,” he blurts, propping himself up on an elbow. Shane sketches a brow but doesn’t say anything. “That was fun. I—I want to…,” he trails off, trying to figure out what he tries and fails to say. “I wanna help. Next time, y’know. Maybe do more than drive?”  
  
Shane looks at him in wonder. “That’s the best idea I’ve ever heard of, babe.”  
  
Ryan feels the nervous energy in his stomach dissolve as he beams, moving to straddle him. “Really?”  
  
Shane laughs, thumbs playfully digging into Ryan’s knees. “Absolutely. ‘Sides, with you there, we wouldn’t need to pull a gun. Your pretty little face could walk in and out with the money with just a smile.”  
  
Ryan bites down on his lip, a lousy attempt to stop from smiling “Think so?” His fingers absentmindedly trail Shane’s stomach.  
  
“Know so,” Shane hums, sliding his hands up to trail the sides of Ryan’s thighs. Heart clenching at the domestic air of it all, Ryan closes the distance between them, kissing Shane long and slow. He feels warm fingers slide up his torso and into his hair.  
  
“I love you,” Ryan breathes, pulling back just a little bit, noting the look in Shane’s eye. It isn’t necessarily shock. It seems as though he says ‘Thank you’.  
  
……..  
  
Ryan’s heart beats out of his chest. There’d be no going back once he walked into the store. As Shane told him before, “There’s no room for cowardice.”  
  
“You ready?” Shane asks, the words bouncing around in Ryan’s head.  
  
“What if I panic? Maybe I should just drive.”  
  
“Easy. Don’t panic,” Shane says shortly, shrugging before glancing around the parking lot. “I’ll let you go in a minute before I do. If you get too freaked out, just pretend to be a customer. Try to chase me down afterward.”  
  
Ryan nods, tracing the small gun in his lap gingerly, as if pressing too hard would set it off. Shane taught him the basics of shooting, but told Ryan to leave the messy work to him. Really, Ryan doesn’t have much to fear. Still, though, his heart thunders.  
  
“Ry, we don’t have all the time in the world, you know. Either get out now or get in the driver’s seat.”  
  
Ryan sighs, nodding slowly. “Remember that film Clara Bow was in? About the girl who had to pretend to be evil? I just have to act. That’s all.”  
  
Shane looks unimpressed at first, before nodding. “Great. You got this, babe.” The words carry Ryan into the store, drawn to look at some display of figurines shiny with lacquer while Shane enters.  
  
Ryan watches out of the corner of his eye, trying his best to look inconspicuous. Shane strolls to the register, where a man in his mid-thirties by the looks of it lifts his eyes from a book.  
  
“Can I help you find something?”  
  
Shane ponders the question, arms clasped behind his back, within reaching distance of the gun strapped to his belt. “Yes sir, I was wondering if I could get all the cash in the register?”  
  
The man’s eyes widen as he finds himself staring down the barrel of Shane’s gun. He swallows, shifting his eyes to Ryan, who watches in what he hopes looks like fear. “Put the gun down.” His voice is commanding, the kind of voice you would use on a disobedient child. Ryan makes a split-second decision. Acting would help them in his situation.  
  
Slowly, he makes eye contact with the man, who takes Shane’s threats with an admirable amount of steel. Once the man’s attention is directed towards Ryan, he slowly brings the gun out of his coat, aiming it at Shane’s head. The man gives Ryan a quick nod. With ghostly silent steps, Ryan creeps towards Shane, who grins as the storekeeper begins shoving cash into the briefcase Shane presented. Ryan supposes the man thinks the money won’t leave the store.  
  
Nearing Shane, lips pressed together and eyebrows scrunched, he shifts the gun to point at the storekeeper. “Y’all got a vault here?” He can practically feel the pride rolling off of Shane as the man goes red. Like a cornered animal, he stands, backing up.  
  
“Now, here’s what’s gonna happen,” Shane croons. “This nice young man here is going to carry this briefcase to the vault. You’re gonna unlock it and give us the money. We leave and no one gets hurt. Deal?”  
  
Shaking, the man eyes something behind the counter, prompting Shane to continue. “Don’t think about turning a gun to us, either, ok?”  
  
The man darts his tongue out, licking his lips. “I—I don’t know the code.”  
  
“Bullshit,” Shane chuckles, sliding his finger over the trigger. “Ryan. Now.”  
  
Ryan slips behind the desk with the case in hand, gun still trained on the man. He wouldn’t shoot. Of course, he wouldn’t. The man tenses, sliding to his knees. On a low shelf, a small vault sits. It can’t be bigger than the briefcase itself. Still, Ryan nudges the man’s head with the gun as he opens it with trembling fingers.  
  
Slowly, he turns, slipping every bit of cash into the case, a grand sum of probably $50.  
  
“That’s all we have,” the man pleads, standing on unsteady legs. Ryan backs away, joining Shane again.  
  
“You’re gonna let us walk outta here.”  
  
With the man’s furious nod, Ryan turns, followed by Shane, backing out with the gun pointed yet again at the storekeeper.  
  
It isn’t until they’re ducking through the woods laughing like crazy that they see the police speed down the road. Far, far too late to do anything.  
  
A few months ago, Ryan would have blanched at the thought of pointing a gun to a man’s head. Now, with the weight of the cash pulling on his left arm and his right around Shane, he finds he doesn’t really mind it that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was very messy omg im sorry

**Author's Note:**

> so, this is A) Very short for me. This chapter is a test. I most likely will continue for my own enjoyment :D  
> B) Not historically accurate. Going off of the musical, here. AMAZING, BY THE WAY.  
> If you like this??? Lemme know??? Comments are my lifeline!!


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